Amidst All the Shriekiness

Hello!  Without trying to catch up on the past (which has been great and happy and full of family time and work time and not enough horse time), here's a little slice of our life lately.

Beep was the flower girl in my dad's wedding.  I think it was the highlight of her life.  She still asks "Am I your flower girl?"  Because being a flower girl is tantamount to holding the most illustrious, loving, special and elevated position possible.

Thank you for the precious head wreath for my baby girl, Dad and Joyce.  I had no idea what to do about the lingering baby mullet.  Because, you guys, she's still the same Beep we all know and love.  Mullet in the house!

Apparently to make up for her persistent lack of front hair, I got bangs.

 But!  The hair situation does evolve, at least in the back, and she now allows pigtails.  They are tiny and precious, just like her.  As proven by this photo, where the other kids look approximately 3 years older (spoiler alert: they're not).

Yes, it's true.  I am a soccer mom.  Beep is loving soccer, and watching their games has become my favorite weekend activity.  The team's entire game strategy consists of trying to remember which goal to score on.  Not that anyone keeps track, you understand.  

Our baby boy has been a wonderful addition to our family (does anyone ever say otherwise?).  But, if you want to hold a grudge because life without my regular blog postings has become a meaningless wasteland... well, blame him.

Having a second child definitely pushed my schedule over the edge, and it continues to be a challenge for me to find time for myself.  Blogging falls under that category, along with riding, exercising (oh baby weight, how I hate you), and blow drying my hair.  Air dry 4evah!

Brother Bean, as he is mostly called, is merry, sweet, giggly, and has a ridiculously cute set of dimples that guarantee every woman within sight falls helplessly in love with him. 

In other news, he's really really shriek-y.  As in, make your ears bleed.  He recently decided it's his main mode of communication, and really it's so much more efficient than, say, talking.  Who needs verbal communication, or signing?  And pointing is for sissies.  So I am frantically trying to reinforce words, both verbal and in sign language. 
Him: *shriek*
Me: Brother, do you need a drink?  Drink?
Him: *shrieeeeeek*
Me: Brother, drink? [holding up cup]
Him: *SHRIEEEEK*
Me: [signing "drink"]
Him: *SHRIEEEEEEEEEK!!!!*

So that's really working.
  
Finally, in our household of four there is only one person who favors clothing, and that would be me.  Otherwise Cabbage Ranch is populated by one man who'd rather walk around half dressed most of the time.  Then there's the baby who sees no need for clothing, especially anything restrictive like, say, long sleeves or shoes.  I can't really blame him, because up until now he probably thought his life would be nothing but onesies and the reality of denim and buttons would indeed be a bitter pill to swallow. 

And then there's The Naked Chef. 
  

How are you guys?

The Dance Card is Full

Hello!  

So it seems I overestimated the elasticity in my own life.  Over the past few years as my career and our family have grown, I always figured out how to squeeze every last minute out of each day and still always add one more thing.  

That works until it... doesn't.  

I suppose everyone reaches a point of being overcommitted, and for me it turns out that was one child ago.  I have definitely summitted the hill of my to do list, and blogging was pushing me over the edge.

Those of you who have been reading this blog for a while know I have always juggled a full schedule.  I worked, I commuted, I had a husband and a baby girl, I rode my horse, I cleaned my own house (or it stayed dirty), I DIY'd projects, and I still blogged more days than not.  I tried to have it all, and I did.  Hooray for me!  I was superwoman!

I then had a beautiful baby boy (via c-section) and returned to work (6 weeks later) at the height of our manically busy time of year.

It turns out there wasn't room for everything.  I was saddened, but something had to give and I unfortunately have had to make that one thing this blog.  

I think about writing all the time and I miss it.  I do anticipate being able to return to it more regularly in a few weeks.  Probably around the first of March.  I can't wait!  I hope you are willing to return to reading regularly when I write regularly.  Pretty please?

In the meantime, here are the people I've been focusing my time on.

I think it's the hair that really makes this picture.  Beep has been just great.  She is feeding deer cookies, eating her vegetables, learning vocabulary at the speed of light, making new friends, and is (almost) potty trained. 

Allow me to introduce our second child, our son.  We call him Bean.  He is tiny and dimpled and totally fantastic.  We are all having so much fun with this new miniature version of my husband. :)  He's four months old now. 

So please know I'll try to check in more often between now and the beginning of March.  After that, I should be able to post more regularly.  If I don't, it's because I'm working very long days and spending my few precious minutes with my babies and my husband.

And perhaps, every once in a while, I'll be sleeping.

xoxo,
Katie

Hello Again

Hi, friends.

Sorry for the disappearing act.  I hope you'll understand that I took some time away from blogland for the happiest of reasons.

Our son was born September 9th at 10:16pm.  Since then we've been learning who he is, learning about being a big sister, learning about being a mother and father to two little ones.   

Now that I am re-entering my normal life, and trying to find my balance with an even busier pace, I hope you'll bear with me still.  I do intend to continue this blog and have much more to share with you, even as my days have become fuller.  My goal is to carve out time to write regularly again because I miss doing this, and sharing our life, and hearing from you.

Thank you for reading and sharing your life as well.

Katie

Mission Accomplished

I am 37 weeks pregnant, and it's usually about 100 degrees outside.  Because those facts do not, in fact, happily coexist in any universe, my time outside is extremely limited these days. 

As in, I avoid it like the plague.

When I do venture outside, it's usually done grudgingly and quickly, with a specific (and limited) objective in mind.

One night, Beep and I set out on a mission, which was thus:

Hoist Beep onto Mama's hip

Find Sam

Love on Sam

Waddle inside ASAP



Puckering up

Planting one on Sam

Horsehair-y faces are easily washed clean (eventually)

A little hand loves well

A big hand loves, too

Mission accomplished.

Feeding Time

On a typical night Cabbage feeds the horses, but while he was away tonight the job fell to me.  My whole life I have always enjoyed feeding time; I find it not to be a chore, but rather a meditative and soothing ritual of measuring, carrying, talking softly to big animals as I move among them with a pat.  It's sweet, and so often I don't really think while I'm doing it- between my ears there's nothing but white noise.  Unlike when I'm doing advanced calculus... rrriiiight...   

Tonight, though, I couldn't wait to just. get. through it. and escape back to the house.  It was 101 degrees outside, I'm seven months pregnant, and all I wanted was to sit down and put my feet up.  (I apparently would not have made a good pioneer wife in 1873.  This knowledge might just keep me up tonight.)

Fortunately I had a helper.  As always, Beep was ready and willing.

Goldie had an early start eating her huge portions.  We're trying to put weight on her skinny frame, but it's taking a lot of feed and a lot of her time is devoted to hanging her head in a feed bucket.  I aspire to have that problem in my next life.

Goldie, you're a dork.  A sweet, yearning, goofy, socially obtuse dork.  Quit photobombing me.

This is better.  A nice, crappy phone photo showing mud, a detached pool ladder, a baby heading toward a cat, and a bunch of stuff badly needing pruning shears/shovels/a hatchet job.  Fabulous.

Every kid should have a cat this tolerant.

Here's how we recommend developing a cat like Fletcher:
1. Pick a kitten that was abandoned at a barn in a small West Texas town.  He won't expect much from life.
2. Make sure he has a gash on his side and tell him you're not spending much on vet bills so he'd better get over it.
3. Promise to keep him in the barn foreverandeverandever because that's the only way your husband will allow a barn cat... [next scene] ...until he worms his way into your house, and eventually works his way up to sleeping on the comforter.
4. Ensure your cat develops an impressive hunting prowess, much like your husband.  It'll give them something to bond over, which will lead to #3.
5. Watch your husband as he spends the cat's kittenhood picking him up by the tail, teasing him, making him make earless kitty faces, and generally increasing his tolerance for humiliation and harassment.
6.  Beam with pride as the cat tolerates the toddler, who he likely views as a refreshing break from the adults in his life.     

There's never been much wrong with Sam's appetite.  He loves his feed.  (the powder is an anti-ulcer supplement we feed to all our horses)

Cedar is the opposite of a photobomber.

Now I understand why.  She's a beautiful mare, but somehow horrifically unphotogenic.  She looks like she has an elephant head and donkey legs. 

Thank goodness the sun is setting...  I prefer to see our worn pastures in soft lighting.

Junior.  It's been nearly a year since his struggle to live, and his pivotal surgery.

Bay has always been my favorite color for horses; this works out since we have four bays right now.

Feeding is done, Goldie returned to the pasture, and Beep and I walk through the gate.  Beep has a good understanding of the most basic tenet of ranch etiquette: never, ever pass through a gate without closing and latching it behind you.

Fletcher's understanding of basic ranch etiquette: KILL LIZARDS.

Horses drink a lot of water when it's 100 degrees.  Time to top off the water trough.

Thanks for the help, Baby.  I know we have another child coming in September but you'll always be my baby. 

Let's head for the sanctuary of the house.

Along the Lantana

This gorgeous lantana plant was blooming alongside the barn the other day.

A few feet away, as she does nearly every night, Tabor brought her babies by for dinner.

That night she had two babies with her.  Sometimes we see her with one baby, sometimes two, and sometimes... even three.  We believe Tabor has two fawns, and occasionally babysits an extra.  But it is possible she had triplets (fertilemuch?) and has been fooling us all along.

In any event she's proving to be an excellent mother this time around, just as in the past.

I'd like to take a little credit for that, but really I never could give her much help with deer mothering.  Take, for example, this old photo. 



I mean, is it really useful for her to learn to let me kiss her?  Probably not.

Despite my best efforts to corrupt her, she's obviously figured out the whole Deer Thing, though, as her babies are big, strong, and frisky.

It's good to know I can be an utter failure in Deer Maternal Behavior 101 and everything still turns out okay. 

In a related turn of events, Beep is now grunting and beeping deer sounds at her discretion.  So there appears to be some bleedover of deer education.  This skill may make kindergarten interesting, but whatever.  You win some, you lose some.

Love Like a Deer

I'm sitting in our living room, watching Amish: Out of Order.  My pregnancy accessories, cankles, are propped up and a ceiling fan stirs the air, just enough.  The baby in my belly, whom we've taken to calling Bean, squiggles and squirms from time to time.  In the kitchen Cabbage is doing the dishes (even though he also cooked dinner) and a few feet away Beep has barely gone to sleep in her crib.  Just a few minutes ago we saw Tabor and one of her babies outside the window, and I told Beep about how a mama deer licks her babies to clean them.  She thought about that, then nodded, smiled, and started licking me and we both giggled.

Tonight, and the past few days, parenting Beep has been difficult.  Her moods swing wildly and she is insistent on pretty much everything... anything... whatever strikes her fancy...  She will be denied nothing, and any attempt to control her impulses or budding independence leads to tears and heartbreak. 

I was gone four days last week- the longest we've ever been apart- and although she did fine while I was gone, this is the fallout.  She needs me, and wants to be carried and coddled.  She sometimes refuses to eat unless in my lap and will stop at nothing to have my full attention.

It's been a delicate balance to pick our battles with her.  Tonight she railed at her high chair and sobbed that she couldn't sit with me to eat.  I've indulged her in that impulse a couple of times recently, but I usually end up wearing half her dinner and I just wasn't up to it tonight.  Beep wasn't taking no for an answer and a fit ensued... Ultimately she was placed in time out (one of her few time outs ever) and invited back to the table two minutes later.  Then she melted down again so we repeated everything.  Cabbage and I sat in silence, listening to her shudders and sniffles, eating our salad and miserable that our beloved baby was struggling.

Back to the table and she sat well, did not eat, and tried her best to hold it together.  It was enough.  Cabbage finished and offered to pick her up. "No!" she told him, and laid her head against the side of her high chair.  I finished a couple of minutes later and gathered her to my shoulder.  She breathed, shuddered, her mood lightened, and happiness dawned on her again.  Eventually she started eating, sitting on my lap and chattering.

"Do you think it matters that she still ultimately is sitting on my lap to eat?"  I asked Cabbage.
"Nah," he said.  "Hold what you've got.  She sat quietly and waited for us to eat.  She did what we asked."

So I kissed her, and snuggled her, and let her eat the few bird bites she wanted. 

Then we ventured outside, Beep attached to my hip, where we hosed the day's sweat off the horses and petted Tabor.  I talked to her about where and how Tabor feeds milk to her babies and I rubbed my tight, swollen belly and found myself wondering how Beep will adjust to our new baby in a few months. 

Finally, I carried my baby inside to get her ready for bed.  Washed dirty little hands and feet, put on her beloved jammies, brushed pearly tiny teeth, read two books and pointed at the little mouse on each page.

That was when Tabor made her appearance outside our window.  Having my baby giggle and try to lick me clean more than made up for the drama and misery of the tears earlier.  One thing's certain: she loves me like a deer.

Beep and me, along with Tabor and her baby, 2010

It's Twins!

Twins for Tabor, that is!

Not for me... No thank you.  One person per person, please.

Tabor, who was until recently kicking up her heels in the wide open yonder, returned home just in time.  She gave birth to two healthy fawns on Friday, which just happened to be my birthday! 

Cabbage told me she'd had the babies when her (formerly bulging and squirming) belly was empty Saturday morning.  She showed up at the barn during feeding time, ravenous and wanting attention.  As always, it was great to see she'd delivered safely.  Then we started the waiting game to anticipate when she'd bring her babies within sight, which we didn't expect to be for a week or two.  As with most deer, Tabor prefers to hide her babies somewhere safe, then come out to feed herself. 

This year, though, she gave me a special Mother's Day treat by bringing them by on Mother's Day!  Although just two days old they are strong and healthy, and just like their older siblings have white spots near their noses.  They're unbelievably cute!!! 

Beep was napping so she'll have to see them another time... but Cabbage and I were quite close and felt very fortunate Tabor decided to share her fawns with us.  We don't try to touch them as we're not trying to imprint them, though my fingers almost tingle with the memory of Tabor's tiny spindly legs and smooth, glossy spotted coat.  

Seeing the new fawns was my favorite Mother's Day gift this year!  Sorry Cabbage! :)

 Tabor with both babies (just beyond the wire fence)

 Fawn with Mama walking to the right

Fawn curled up at Mama's hind feet

Below is a video of Tabor walking away with the babies in tow (picture Cabbage and me gleefully holding our breaths and resisting the urge to hug and squeeze them).  At the beginning of the video, listen for Tabor's gutteral croak calling her fawns.  Enjoy!



A Fence for Tabor

After almost two months of seeing our doe, Tabor, only on the wrong side of our property line, she is finally home.

As an aside, I think I have a greater appreciation for what Amish parents must go through when their kids leave for their rumspringa. 

So what I'm saying is, Tabor may be Amish. 

Anyway, over the past weeks her band of fairweather friends moved on (I told her it would never last/they weren't any good for her/we knew better).  She wandered the property in back of Cabbage Ranch, usually by herself.  She seemed fine and as her belly grew larger with her baby she visited more frequently.

As time passed she allowed closer contact and eventually Cabbage was able to feed her from his hand again, then pet her.  Within the last week my toddler, Beep, and I were able to visit with her at feeding time, and I was reassured that she was still the same sweet little deer.  Tabor was happy to be petted, happy to eat corn from our hands, and even tolerated Beep's hollering, baby pats on her forehead, and bucket-shaking antics.  That made me all the more certain she was ready and able to come back home. 

Our back fenceline stretches long and tight, paneled with wire and without a single gate.  Tabor has never been confident in her jumping abilities, but that's been especially true since she injured a hind leg two years ago and suffered some permanent tendon damage.  Jumping the fence wasn't a safe option for her, and she was still refusing to cross the fence where Cabbage had lowered it.  There, it was plenty low enough for her to hop over but she was wary of it... She's a deer.

Finally, on Saturday evening, we stood along the back fenceline as I fed and stroked Tabor.  I looked at the lowered fence, then at Tabor, and back at the fence.  Cabbage knew what I was thinking, and chuckled.  But I resisted the temptation to try to shove her over it, knowing she was very fast and strong, and my odds of success were about nil. 

I asked about putting a gate in, or cutting the fence, or... something... "Can't we just help her out?  She seems ready to come home."

Cabbage had obviously been thinking the same thing.  He ran through a few options that would allow us to create an opening in the fenceline without compromising the whole dang stretch of wire, and finally hit on an idea that made sense to him.

Sunday morning we headed to Lowes, got supplies, and he got busy sawing and drilling and clamping.  Beep and I napped, because I'm a good helper like that and on the weekends I have the sleep schedule of a toddler. 

When he was done, Cabbage had made a sturdy little braced frame just wide enough for a deer to walk through.  Once it was installed he cut the fence and bound it back to the frame.  The deer portal was ready.

Two hours later Tabor came up for her feeding and happily wandered through.  She was back on Cabbage Ranch.  She had, perhaps, been waiting for a gate all along.

We're a little slow, but we catch on eventually. 

Now we are just letting Tabor settle back in, get reacquainted with her two-year old daughter, Abby, and relax before she has her fawn(s).  We hope she'll stay and fall easily back into her old routines, but if she ever does need help getting back through the fenceline again, we now have her little doorway.  It's a fence built for Tabor.        

 Cabbage's fence brace along the back property line

The fence brace (closed with a piece of wire panel) after Tabor came home 

 Do you see our little deer in this picture?

 Beep is happy to have Tabor home, too

The End (for now)

A Whole Lot of Hay

Cabbage heard about some Timothy hay, which is the kind we both prefer to feed our horses.  It's so hard to find here in South Texas, though, that we haven't fed it since we moved here.  He went to check out his lead, bought a humongous bale, and drove home.

Once in our pasture, he was faced with unloading 1,500 pounds of hay without heavy machinery.  If it was up to me, I probably would have contemplated leaving the truck there for a few weeks until the horses ate the hay down. 

Fortunately, Cabbage is more ambitious than I, and he also possesses the uncanny ability to make anything a redneck adventure.  In his world, many problems are solved with a rope.

In this picture, the hay bale has roped the tree... or vice versa.

Goldie looked thoroughly embarrassed at this turn of events. 

But there was a method to Cabbage's madness.  The other end was looped around the front of the bale.

Then Cabbage hopped in the truck, inched it forward, crossed his fingers as the rope around the bale tightened and strained... Beep and I judiciously moved further out of the way.

Some creaking and rope-stretching later, the bale stayed put as the truck moved forward, and it flipped off the end of the bed.  Success!

Miss Nosy checked it out before the dust even settled.

Nice work, cowboy.  Coil up that rope!  And now it's even longer than it was, lucky you. 

Our hay ring helps keep big hay bales together and reduces waste, so Cabbage moved it over to the new Timothy hay.  But hay rings are made for round bales...  This quickly became a case of a square peg in a round hole.

Sooo...  It won't fit until the mares eat a little hay.  Two hundred pounds should do it.  Luckily for us, Goldie isn't scoring her dinner on presentation, and she also isn't shy.  She got started right away.

And that, my friends, is how one person unloads a 1,500 pound bale of hay.  It is also the start of how two mares eat 1,500 pounds of hay, AAAAnnnnnnd it's your tutorial on how to stretch out a rope.  This is a super informative multipurpose post.  You're welcome.

You guys have a great Monday.